An Unexpected Journey Across the Prairie
by guppy22
Summary: Canadian prairie small-town girls Elsa and Anna set out to find a new city and start a new life after the death of their parents and the catastrophic failure of their family business. What will they discover about themselves and the world they live in? Expect a fast paced story after the first 4 chapters. (Modern country-style AU, non-Elsanna)
1. Prologue

Prologue

I held the gun in my trembling hands.

The stench of gunpowder filled the chilly night air. A puff of smoke can be seen rising lazily from the barrel. The characteristic loud bang echoed off the brick buildings long after the shot itself. It rang in my ears.

Other than my thumping heart and ringing ears, however, there was silence. Absolute, suffocating, calm, silence.

I turned to look at my sister Elsa. She stood some distance behind me, clutching her cane with white knuckles. She looked at me with wide eyes, full of uncertainty and fear. I can only assume I looked the same.

"Anna…" Elsa whispered.

I was too shocked to speak. I turned to look at the aftermath in front of me: blood seeped from where the bullet entered, and there he was, unconscious.

No, not unconscious.

Dead.


	2. On the road with you

_ "The purpose of life is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experience." _

_~Eleanor Roosevelt_

* * *

_Three weeks ago._

Chapter 1: On the road with you

By lunchtime, I had been driving for three and a half hours. Which is by far the longest and furthest I've driven anywhere outside of our little town of Arendelle. I moved my arm to roll down the poorly tinted window and reached over to Elsa's side to do the same, careful not to wake my sleeping sister. The hot prairie sun is quickly turning the old Ford Taurus into a furnace, and the open windows seemed to help, at least for a little while.

Past a tight turn on the narrow country highway, I found myself staring at the ugly beat-up back of a Volkswagen 'hippie camper' going 45 clicks an hour. On the bumper was taped one of those fancy electronic peace signs from Canadian Tire that flashed every time the driver hit the brake. I would know because this asshole hit the brake constantly. With a long exaggerated sigh, I flung my arms against the wheel without actually hitting the horn: one, I didn't want to be rude; two, I didn't want to be beaten up; three, I didn't think Elsa would appreciate being woken up by a maniacal, road-raging Anna.

"Heh, I didn't think I'd ever see someone drive slower than you." Elsa grinned, eyes still closed and pretending to sleep.

I turned slightly to look at the blonde girl with narrowed eyes. "You need a drivers' licence before you are legally allowed to complain," I teased.

Elsa didn't say anything back and I didn't really mind. Ever since we were kids, Elsa has always been the quiet and reserved sibling. She was and preferred silent company; the kind of people that would sit down, enjoy a cup of coffee, read a newspaper, perform open-heart surgery, pack up and leave, all without saying a single word. I guess she wasn't always half-mute like this, mama used to say Elsa was as talkative and hyperactive as me, but then she grew up and matured. Or maybe that's just wishful thinking. I dunno.

It was 5 long and agonizing minutes before I realized I can pass this crawling abomination of colours that should never go together. It was 5 more minutes before I mustered up the courage to actually do it. Small town driving lessons can be summarized as driving around bright orange pylons in an abandoned parking lot, and not so surprisingly, small town driving tests fit that exact definition as well. There was a grand total of 5 hours and 28 minutes between the first time I touched a car and when I passed with flying colours, and believe me, that's plenty of time for a town with twelve and a half paved roads. Regardless, I've gotten us around town safely for the whole year since our parents died. I think they would be proud of me.

What does a forty something goatee neck-beard in a prehistoric red pickup, a single mom in an overpacked Toyota Sienna, and the Google Earth camera car thingamajig have in common? They all honked at me as I tried to pass the repulsively slow hippie-mobile. By the time I cleared through that mess of noisy vehicles, my hands were shaking uncontrollably and drenched in sweat. Taking this chance, I wiped my right hand on my jean legs and grabbed Elsa's hands gingerly. She turned and looked at me funny.

"Elsa, on the off-chance that we die on this road today-"

Before I could continue, my sister giggled loudly. "More like definite chance," She muttered.

"Hmph. As I was saying, on the definit-"I turned slightly, "_off-chance _we perish in this car, I need you to know that I love you very much..." I paused briefly, fumbling the lid off of a McDonald's cup.

"…Madame Elsa, may I have your hand in the bond of holy matrimony?"

Elsa laughed. "Oh my God Anna, I thought you were gonna say something serious!"

I couldn't hold a straight face any longer, and it made keeping the wheel steady that much harder. "Well? _My love?_" I laughed as well.

The blonde girl brushed her braided hair aside playfully. "Ummm… Let me see the ring first."

"I see how it is," I swerved to avoid a large pothole, unsure of how much abuse the car can take before it breaks down. "Close your eyes, stick out your hand, and count to 3."

"Okay… One…"

I peeled open the 4 inner leaves of the plastic lid, leaving a finger sized hole where the straw is supposed to go.

"Two…"

With one hand on the wheel, I used my other hand to put the over-sized plastic ring onto Elsa's finger.

"Ooo this is big... Three!" Elsa opened her eyes, pretending to be surprised. Upon seeing the plastic drink lid, my older sister grinned ear to ear. "This is beautiful!"

"The finest diamonds from McDonalds Craftsmen, with a hint of coke!" I tried to mimic a terrible TV British accent.

"I'll tell ya what, Anna," Elsa said thoughtfully, "I will marry you over there in that Timmies for some coffee and lunch." She pointed towards a road sign. "You need rest and we need food."

"Mmm, alright." I nodded calmly. _Thank God, _I thought, _I don't think I can keep driving for much longer._

* * *

That bit of sisterly bonding with Elsa was nice; rare, but definitely nice. By the time our parents passed away a year and a half ago, my sister and I had been drifting apart for many years. We went to the same K-12 school, the only public school in Arendelle, but 3 grades apart. For the first few years we were close, Elsa and I would eat lunch, go to our classes, and then walk home together. We were like normal sisters, except, you know, quieter. When I was in fourth grade, Elsa went to junior high. Although it was in the same building only meters apart, our time schedules became different. Elsa would get off early on some days, and at first, she would wait for me at the entrance of the elementary school wing. I remember the joy I'd get every afternoon from seeing Elsa sitting at the front steps of the school, book in hand and smiling. However, as time passed, I found myself walking home alone increasingly more often. At first it was the odd day she was busy, then it became the odd day she _wasn't _busy. Then, in grade 6, we just kinda stopped seeing each other outside of home.

When I was in grade 9, Elsa graduated from Arendelle Westergard School with full academic honours, top grade out of 27 graduates. The only reason she wasn't chosen as valedictorian was because of her strong aversion to public speaking. Much to the surprise of the town, my sister decided to stay and work for out little family business instead of heading off to a big city university. Like always, our parents were fully supportive of that decision. "Only you can know what's best for yourself," papa used to say.

Fast forward two years into the future, I was still in high school, and Elsa has definitely done well for herself. Our family's industrial refrigeration business has boomed, thanks to Elsa's natural talent for engineering and papa's needle sharp business acumen. We became the biggest name in our town; we were the_ big business family_ in a friendly way. After a while Elsa became the manager of daily operations of the company, and henceforth became known as the 'Ice Queen' to her friends; it was a rather interesting play on the fact she runs a refrigerator business AND the fact she's quiet and withdrawn. Five months before their accident, my parents bought an old junk yard and turned it into our factory warehouse. "We're expanding into bigger and more lucrative markets," they had told the two of us, "there's competing offers in both Calgary and Winnipeg." It was a happy time for both Elsa and I, she enjoyed what she did, I was good in school, our family was rich, and most importantly, our relationship has begun to thaw. On some days, I'd even see her waiting for me at the gates of the school with two ice cream cones and a warm smile.

When mama's and papa's plane crashed into the Rockies during a thunderstorm, everything fell apart. Elsa sunk into deep periodic depression, and became even more withdrawn than usual. My grades plummeted because I couldn't focus in school with all the condolences and sudden attention. Worst of all, the company, our parents' legacy, crumbled to the ground in the blink of the eye. We lost every contract out of town and foreclosed the factory warehouse with a net loss in the millions. I had to find a job for the first time at an ice cream parlour in addition to school, while Elsa struggled to keep the company afloat by working late nights until she passed out. That was the year we were supposed to hit $10 million in sales. Needless to say, we did not.

* * *

I stopped the Taurus in the far end of the Tim Horton's parking lot, away from the other dozen or so cars. My hands are still shaking when I got out of the car, but I don't think Elsa noticed. Elsa had gotten out of the car first for a stretch. She leaned against the dark grey door of the Taurus and waited for me to get out, one hand against her blue jeans and the other holding her hat against the dry prairie wind. I stepped out. With one hand on the car door, I turned to look at my sister.

Although not very talkative, Elsa is indeed very beautiful. In addition to a few gallons worth of cowboy hat over her platinum blonde hair, my older sister wore an unbranded purple hoodie and a pair of old jeans ripped around the left leg. Her single braid of hair fluttered in the warm summer wind against her shoulder. I could see how relaxed she was to be leaving the old life behind and starting anew. And to be honest, I was relieved as well.

"Well?" Elsa turned around, "shall we go?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "I'm gonna get a sandwich and the biggest chocolate milk iced-capp they have!" I said with a grin.

Elsa smiled but didn't say anything back.

We were welcomed into the restaurant with an icy blast of fresh AC. It was a refreshing change from the suffocating dry heat outside. I took a deep breath, inhaling as much of the cool artificial air infused with the smell of coffee as I can. Elsa went ahead and claimed a two-person table by the window. Ever since our parents' accident she's been shyer than usual, so I took the burden of tasks that involve speaking to people, like ordering food.

"Next please!" The cashier hollered happily. It was a 30-something Filipino man who looked rather funny in a hairnet.

"Howdy!" I approached the counter in my normal, bubbly self. "Two large chocolate milk ice-capps and two chicken salad sandwiches please." I paused. "Actually, make that one chicken salad and one spicy Italian. My sister really likes that stuff."

"White or brown bread?" The cashier asked.

"Brown."

"Toasted?"

"Yes please!" I giggled; Elsa was staring intensely at a pair of magpies playing outside with a curious look on her face. Somehow I found that to be funny.

The cashier looked at me quizzically, trying to figure out exactly what was funny about toasted sandwiches. "Alright, that'll be $11.35, ma'am," he finally said. Fumbling with my pockets, I handed him the credit card, but not before dropping it on the floor and awkwardly picking it up.

"Thank you, miss-" He paused, looking at the credit card, "-miss Elsa Bergström. Your food will be on your right." The cashier swiped the card and hovered his hand over the receipt machine.

"Wait-" He waved me closer, "your card has been declined."

I was confused. "No way, try it again."

"I did, twice."

"Oh… Sorry about that." I took the card in my hands and told the cashier to wait while I checked with my sister. It wasn't a busy afternoon and I don't think he minded waiting.

When I approached the table, Elsa was already standing up. She had seen the worried look on my face. "What's wrong?" My older sister asked.

"Els, your card, it's been declined." I told her, quietly.

Now Elsa looked worried. "Anna, are you sure?" She asked me, then, after a pause, "I got this a week ago at a different bank, right before they foreclosed the house."

"I know, Elsa… I guess they found out." I replied in a monotone voice.

"Anna… This was our last bit of spending money. We still got 2000 km to go, how do we do that with only the change in our pockets?" Elsa looked down at her shoes and fiddled with her hand, the way she always does it when she's distressed. "I'm sorry Anna, what are we gonna do?"

I took Elsa in for a hug and tried to comfort her. "It's okay, Els. We'll think of something like we always have."

* * *

**A/N : Thanks for reading! I plan to continue this story, so if you have any comments at all (positive or negative), please do tell me! **


	3. Arendelle, Manitoba

_Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—I took the one less travelled by, And that has made all the difference. _

_~Robert Frost_

* * *

Chapter 2: Arendelle, Manitoba

I was born in the town of Arendelle in northern Manitoba, three years after my sister Elsa. At least, that's what they tell me; the first five or six years of my life, I don't remember a damned thing. I used to joke with my friends about how I was abducted by aliens and had my memories erased, but that's a story for another time.

Arendelle is a small town of 400-ish (now 400-ish minus two) people, located off the north east coast of Lake Winnipegosis. In Local History class, we were taught that Arendelle started as a Norwegian fishing and farming village in the late 1700s. Legend has it that the three earliest families built the city hall spire by hand, the very same one I still walk past on my way to school every day. Much like the Métis settlements down south, my ancestors were pioneers on this great land of Canada. I think I'm entitled to some pride in that.

Like every other inch of land in Manitoba, Arendelle was very prone to flooding. In fact, some of my earliest memories were either of Elsa or of flooding. Sometimes even both. Torrential rainwater is often scary for six year olds: Elsa tells me that I used to chew on my ginger braids every time a thunderstorm came in and how cute that was. I don't see how cute fearing for your mortal life is, but then again we're all entitled to our opinions. The year when I was seven, the waters were especially bad. The storms started in the afternoon, and by nightfall, mama and papa had to barricade the house and move the TV out of the basement. I remember Elsa carrying a whimpering and scared-shitless me to our bedroom and tucking me into my bed. From there she read to me this cute Disney story about two princesses in a castle, and I remember imagining ourselves as those two. I don't remember much after that, I probably fell asleep but I definitely wasn't afraid anymore.

Our old house faced 6th street (6 out of 12 and a half) and backed onto a plot of about 20 acres. Actually it was 21.87 acres, the foreclosure notice a week ago made sure to mention the exact size. Anyhow, the land itself went unused for as long as I can remember. Papa told Elsa and me that granddad used to grow these great big potatoes and pumpkins before he passed away, and for a while, I wanted to become a farmer and grow my own big potatoes. The house itself wasn't especially extravagant. It was two storeys tall with dull grey sidings covering both the front and back side. Inside, we had 3 bedrooms and a large living room, I used to call it the TV/fun-room, and it sort of caught on. For a few years Elsa and I lived in the same room and papa used the third bedroom as an office, and when we got our own bedrooms, papa moved his work to the basement. As somewhat of a unique feature in town, our roof was covered with forest green shingles, almost like the parliament buildings in Ottawa. The kids used to stare at the bright green roofs as they walked by, and it made me feel just a teeny bit special. I liked that feeling.

In third grade Elsa and I sat in the field and watched the stars past midnight… on a school night. It was the most fun and rebellious thing I'd done since birth, and boy was mama furious. Although it wasn't Elsa's fault, she took most of the blame for it. In reality, I was the one who barged into our room shouting 'the sky's awake' and dragging a half asleep Elsa outside. Yes, I was a rather hyperactive child. Arendelle was the perfect place to star-gaze: just enough light from Main Street so you don't stumble, but just enough darkness to see that brilliant streak of silver across the night. It's a galaxy, Elsa had told me, where there are thousands of suns and even more places like ours. So for the next few nights I would lie awake at night imagining me and my sister exploring all the fun worlds out there. I still have the habit of doing the exactly that, even years after moving into my own room and growing up.

Being the socially awkward kid that I was, making friends in junior high was surprisingly easy. School was a 7 minute walk from home, and we had this old burger joint halfway between home and school. The guy who owned the place, Arnie, would give special afternoon discounts for students walking home, or really anyone for that matter. Too bad Elsa and I were no longer so close then, because I loved the special home-style chocolate frosties for 50 cents. I'm sure she would've liked it too. I met quite a few friends in that burger joint, and even one special friend. It was the early spring of grade 8 and I was walking home when I decided to treat myself to something chocolaty. Inside the partially renovated restaurant there were only a few people, mostly employees. A while after I sat down I noticed a weird blonde kid with his German shepherd dog sitting in the opposite counter, staring at my strawberry blonde locks of hair. A minute of awkward eye contact and a few times of him pretending to talk for his dog would pass, before we conversed awkwardly and I learned his name was Kristoff and his dog Sven. Kristoff would become my best friend in a year, and we started walking home together like I used to do with Elsa.

In grade 9, papa unveiled his grand plan for the family company. He called for a family meeting in the fun-room and outlined the steps to make '_Frozen Industrials Inc'_ a reality over a cheap whiteboard and some paper plans. Mama and I laughed and Elsa didn't say anything. Six months after, he quit his day job as a mechanic and we had our first big order. Within another six months Elsa graduated from high school, and our basement became increasingly filled with industrial refrigeration equipment. We took out a mortgage on the house to buy the warehouse off of 10th street, and after the accident, the foreclosure took both the house and the warehouse.

Aside from all the memories of years past, Arendelle was a boring little place. We had no museums, zoos, or concert halls. In fact, if anyone wanted to do anything for fun, it was the strip mall off of Main Street with its dinky movie theatre. For years the place had a dusty gravel parking lot but with space heaters in every lot. A few of the older cars would be left there over the harsh Manitoba winter. The manager didn't mind as it made her stores look much busier than they actually were. A month ago, the ownership changed hands and some big company paved the parking lot. Now there's a 2 hour parking limit guarded by a mean looking 60 year old attendant. When we drove past it on our way out in the morning, the strip mall was completely deserted except for one motorcycle.

* * *

When I finished reminiscing about the past, I found Elsa beside me staring into the night sky with a thin satisfied smile. She was definitely enjoying this, and understandably too. Even though we had barely any money and no house, this was the first time in years where Elsa had no worries at all. Gone was the burden to support the both of us while trying to keep the company afloat and dealing with depression at the same time. In a sense, Elsa was finally free.

Of course, with only $55 worth of cash and some pocket change, said freedom might be short-lasting. After Elsa paid for the Tim Horton's lunch with coins in the car, we went through the packed back seats looking for pawn-able items for the next town we come across. Aside from $200 worth of jewellery, we found a few things that might be worth money. I had told Elsa we wouldn't sell her beautiful black and purple graduation dress unless we really needed to, but she insisted it was no use to her, and that was that. In the meantime the cash on hand was to be spent on gas first and food second. So here we are spending our first night in the car, which I must admit is still better than a sketchy fleabag motel.

It was about 9:30, the sun had just set, and the cloudless night sky still glowed a shade of deep blue from the dying remnants of sunlight. The twinkling of a very few stars, along with the waning moon in the southern horizon and the dim streaks of blue to the west, covered the empty fields in a serene and almost magical luminescent glow. Me and my sister Elsa sat on the trunk of the Ford Taurus facing west, in a semi-forested clearing beside the highway. Elsa twiddled with her thumbs and I held a half-eaten chicken salad sandwich in my lap: leftovers from lunch. Elsa was quiet as usual and I wasn't sure what to say, so I didn't say anything. For a good half hour we sat there watching stars peek through the hazy glow of dusk, one at a time.

Off to our right I could hear the periodic _'whoosh'_ of the highway as cars rushed past our little clearing. In between the vehicular traffic however, the night was quiet and calm. In the typical fashion of a prairie summer evening it was comfortably warm, aside from the rare gust of wind. I placed one hand against the cool metallic trunk of the car and slowly lowered myself against the dusty back windows. Elsa turned away from her upwards gaze to look at me.

"Elsa?..." I began hesitantly, "do you think we did the right thing?"

"What do you mean?" My sister replied as I folded my arms behind my head and stared up at the shining stars.

I bit my lip, "moving out of Arendelle, I mean." After a contemplative pause, I continued, "I know we have nothing in there anymore, not after they foreclosed the house. But I had friends whose houses we could crash and maybe even live in for a few months. I know for sure Kristoff's parents were more than willing."

Elsa didn't say anything, so I went on. "We could start over, get jobs, and rent one of those new apartment places by 4th street." I said tentatively, testing for a reaction.

Elsa's lips drew to a small smile, "Anna," she said, "we could start over in a brand new town! We're going to a big city where you can go to college and get a real future. Remember cousin Rapunzel?" Elsa asked.

I nodded, and Elsa continued.

"She lives in Calgary with uncle and auntie, we could go there. Uncle is a big-shot executive in a company called Corona Oil, he could set me up with a job, and we could send you to university. Didn't you want to be an anthropologist?"

"Yeah, I guess." I smiled sheepishly. "What does Punzie want to be?"

Elsa thought about it for a few seconds. "Fine Arts at the University of Calgary, I think. It's been a couple years since I've seen any of them. The summer mama and papa died…" Elsa trailed on, "that year we were supposed to visit them in Calgary, papa had the camper ready and everything."

I could hear Elsa's voice cracking slightly, and decided to change the topic.

"Hang on," I said as I hopped off the trunk of the Taurus, causing a squeak in the suspension. "I'll be back."

Elsa looked at me with interest as I got into the car and hastily searched for the pile of CDs. Finding the green covered disk, I stuck it into the radio and chose track 8. Braids flopping, I hopped back onto the trunk with two of those drinkable yoghurts in hand, leaving the door wide open.

It took Elsa a while to realize I played her favourite song. Actually it was more like her favourite composition, for Elsa loved classical music. With the hauntingly beautiful Liszt _B Minor Sonata_ reverberating in the night air, I handed Elsa a drinkable yoghurt and laid back against the window of the car.

"To a brighter future elsewhere," I said to my sister, unscrewing the cap.

"To a brighter future elsewhere," Elsa replied.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading! I think (hope) this story is going somewhere... As always, if there's anything at all you want to say, please leave a comment! **


	4. No Country for Young Sisters

_You don't choose your family. They are God's gift to you, as you are to them. _

_~Desmond Tutu_

* * *

Chapter 3: No Country for Young Sisters

I awakened to the odd combination of traffic, birds, and snoring. It was a pleasant, albeit early morning. Without the hair necessities of the modern world, I was forced to flatten my monstrous puff of bed-hair against the back of the upholstery. Elsa was still fast asleep when I straightened my seat and left the car to catch some early morning fresh air.

A whole hour would pass before my sister woke up. This was unheard of for Elsa; who, unlike the rest of the family, was an early bird of the most extremes. After our parents' death, Elsa got into the habit of waking up before sunrise. As anyone who lives in Arendelle can testify to, sunrise came inhumanly early in the summer. It was less than a month after the accident when I first found Elsa wandering the living room at 4:15 in the morning. She said she was fine, and I was too sleepy to care otherwise. I learned somewhere that early morning awakening is a symptom of depression, but then again, Elsa has always woken up early.

"Good morning, sunshine." I said as I cracked open the front door to peek inside. A groggy and half-awake Elsa stared back at me, her perfectly un-messy white blonde hair draped against the headrest.

My sister lifted one hand to shield her eyes from the sunlight. "H-hey Anna," she said with a pause. "What time is it?"

"Five in the afternoon," I kidded with my best poker face, "you've been asleep for three days."

The initial shock passed quickly as Elsa's dazed brain processed the joke. With a grin on her face, Elsa closed her eyes and stretched against the car doors. "Good morning to you too," she said.

We had cereal and water for breakfast. Elsa found a ginormous bag of marshmallows and we ate a few of them as well, saving the rest for the road. It felt like a camping trip, the kind of summer vacation mama and papa used to take us.

Before we left the clearing, Elsa and I had walked loops around the car many more times than necessary. The car refused to start when I first tried it, and in a panic, I started frantically checking everything. Second try I realized I didn't turn the key enough to actually start the car. To hide my gross incompetence, I told Elsa it was just something that happens to older vehicles, and she seemed to believe me. There was a grease stain on her pink t-shirt from looking underneath the old Taurus; I tried wiping it off with a Kleenex but with no avail.

Not long after we were on the road again. We had decided to head north for the nearest Saskatchewan town in hopes of encountering a pawn shop. Elsa was huddled in the passenger's seat with a foldable map trying to give me directions, and I was doing my best to drive normally. The early morning sunshine has been replaced with a light cloud cover, and I could see darker clouds to the west. I told my sister it might rain and she simply shrugged. We are in a completely sealed off car after all. Bearing the immense boredom of the typical Manitoba highway, I had resorted to counting mile-markers to pass time. For a long stretch of road the highway was completely deserted, Elsa had joked I could go as fast as I wanted to and told me I should try hitting 50km/h for once in my life. I glared at her and she simply smirked.

_113 km, 75 km, 60 km, 20 km, 18 km, 16… _

We got to a suspiciously deserted Hudson Bay SK early in the afternoon. The nearest and only pawn shop doesn't open until 3 PM, Elsa and I decided to take a break and wander around. The town itself was tiny even compared to Arendelle.

The two of us took a stroll beside the river. The afternoon has grown stuffy and hot despite there being no sun, and I constantly needed to swat for mosquitoes. I held out Elsa's cowboy hat and offered my sister a marshmallow from the bag resting inside. She didn't want any, so I took one anyways and munched on it.

"Oooo what if we go busking?" I said excitedly as the idea popped into my head. "I read online that good buskers can make thirty dollars an hour!"

Elsa raised one eyebrow. "Can play an instrument?"

"N-no I don't think so," I hesitated before continuing, "but we could sing! You have a killer voice Els."

"Killer?" Elsa laughed.

"Oh I don't mean killer, but like- your voice is quite pretty!" I tried to explain away my awkward word usage. "Heck, you could make _O Canada_ sound emotional."

"Thanks Anna," the blonde girl giggled, her blue-turquoise eyes flashing briefly. "What will you do when I'm singing?"

"I'm your manager, duh!" I wrapped my arm around Elsa's shoulder. "We'll make it big on Broadway," I said, moving my hands apart in the shape of a rainbow.

A huge striped mosquito landed on my shoulder and I slapped it hard. I missed the vermin and left a huge hand print on my neck. Elsa shook her head playfully.

I tossed Elsa's cowboy hat into the air just to catch it with half a stumble. A marshmallow fell out onto the ground and I picked it up, rubbed it against my green graphic tee and popped it into my mouth.

"Omnom... Why didn't you go to university?" I asked my sister with my mouth full.

Elsa was caught off guard, "I-I don't r-really know…"

"You must've had some kind of dream future."

"Yeah, I guess so," she paused, "I liked architecture."

Liked architecture indeed. The summer we visited Ottawa Elsa spent all 3 days staring dreamily at the Gothic Revival style cathedrals.

"Oh I remember! When we were kids right? You used to make these intricate drawings of grandiose castles when the rest of us picked our noses and drew flowers. One of them had a giant spire that reached the top of…" I trailed on.

"Why did you stay behind then after high school then?"

Elsa shrugged. She didn't have an answer, or maybe she just didn't want to tell me. Either way I didn't press the issue.

We walked leisurely along the riverbank until I got sick of stuffing my face with marshmallows and desperately needed water. The weather gods had decided hours ago to torture me with dry rain clouds and suffocating humidity. I was sweating like swine by the time we got back to the car, and Elsa was panting profusely. Sometimes I wish my sister had ice powers or something, it would've made life much easier ten minutes ago, plus it would've saved the family business.

"Els, catch!" I threw Elsa the hat and stuffed the marshmallows in the glove compartment.

The hat hit my sister in the face and fluttered to the ground. Oops.

* * *

In total there were eight pawn-able items we found in the car: three necklaces of various designs, a (hopefully) gold ring, Elsa's fancy ass graduation dress, a pair of snowflake cufflinks from a family friend for the grand opening of the refrigeration business, a brand new coffee maker, and a set of BBQ tools. We also debated on selling the 19th century family heirloom sword from the Norway Royal Guard but decided against it. It's a part of the Bergström family history and it is very practical for self defense.

My sister approached the front door of the pawnshop first and held the door open for me, half bowing in welcome. I giggled and returned the favour.

"After you, your majesty." I held one arm out with as much sophisticated grace as I can muster. Elsa walked with her head held high, grinning.

Sharky's Pawn Inc. had a huge blue shark hanging from the side, dangerously close to the top of the door. I was glad I wasn't any taller; a giant freak like Kristoff would've definitely hit his head on his way in. Inside there were two rows of glass display cases filled with old electronics and tools. It wasn't at all what I'd expected, they had no old paintings, nor fancy jewellery, nor did they have 18th century antique pistols like the ones you see on TV.

With a heave, I managed to lift the stack of boxes high enough to place onto the counter. Coffee makers are surprisingly heavy, especially for someone my size. My sister carefully rested the pile that is her graduation dress and jewellery beside my boxes.

Having overheard the _thump_ of boxes against glass, the store attendant cracked open his office door, "hey ladies, I'll be with you in one sec, just gotta finish this call."

"Thanks," I said, and Elsa nodded. The yellowed wooden door closed again.

Using this time, I took a quick look through the store. The mahogany body of an antique violin caught my eye and I ran my fingers over the strings, careful not to break anything.

By the time I finished my exploring, Elsa was already talking to the attendant.

"…As I was saying, I can probably give you $20 for each piece of jewellery, the rest I'll have to look through and see."

I turned around to look at Elsa. The blonde girl had a quiet, disappointed stare. Frankly, I agreed with her, twenty dollars is ridiculously low. "Wait, what?" I began, "don't you think that's a little low? These necklaces are one of a kind, and very pretty too."

The pawnshop clerk scratched his chin. "Hmmm, I dunno," he paused, "these are hard to sell in a small town."

"But-"

Before I could finish, he's already made up his mind. "I'll give you $25, no more."

I decided to bluff. No harm in a little bargaining, right?

"I won't go lower than $40," I said, flipping my braid backwards.

"Sorry gals, no can do," said the clerk, visibly annoyed but also intrigued.

I followed through with my buff. "Come on, Elsa," I waved to my sister, "let's get out of here."

"Okay wait. $35, but just for the necklaces. Cufflinks and ring I'll take for $25."

_Yesssss! It worked! _I squealed on the inside, trying to keep at least a half-assed poker face as I walked back to the counter. "Ah I guess that is doable," I said, "Let's do that first, and then we'll deal with the rest of this stuff."

The attendant took the jewellery from my hands and went into his office. I took this chance to high five my sister. Both of us were grinning.

"Damn, Anna." Elsa whispered with awe, "nice bartering skills you got there."

"Dude, don't even," I laughed, covering my mouth by habit, "I was level 100 in Speech on Skyrim on the Xbox at home."

Elsa looked at me like I was some kind of weird creature as she began to sort through the rest of our stuff. She placed the BBQ set on top of the coffee machine, and stretched out her dress. I found myself staring at the dress with my mouth ajar like a retard.

Of all fancy graduation dresses, Elsa's was perhaps the most beautiful. When properly worn the purple cape-like extension drapes over Elsa's bony shoulders with elegance, while the black and green dress wraps itself around Elsa's hips and flows onto the floor below. A rather conservative design by today's measures, it did not show much skin at all. However when worn by my sister, the dress stands out like a shining beacon of beauty. On a whim, I decided to persuade Elsa to keep it.

Graduation day in Arendelle Westergard School had three segments: the walk of boredom, the tearful speeches, and the party afterwards. The year Elsa graduated, the Valedictorian was a handsome bloke named Erik, or as I called him, the Elsa-substitute. He gave a rousing speech on _the Fragility of Youth and the Power of Happiness_, which very few people knew was actually Elsa's first draft. A week before the graduation ceremonies, my sister had a panic attack, and Principal Kingston decided it would be in her best interest not to speak at the ceremony. The position of Valedictorian was handed to Erik, and he read Elsa's script ad verbatim.

Upon his return, Sharky's store clerk handed me the money and receipt, and signalled us to follow him with the rest of the stuff. I felt the smooth surface the new Canadian plastic rainbow money and stuffed it into my back pocket. Elsa started to walk with the boxes and I had her dress in my arms.

I walked in front of Elsa, just enough to break her forward gaze. "What do you say we keep your pretty dress?"

Elsa stopped with a confused look. "We need the money, Anna." She added jokingly, "The way you drive gets us five miles per gallon."

"Well, we don't actually need the money," I began, "everything else can sell for a couple hundred, plus the money we've already gotten for the necklaces. It's more than enough to get us to Calgary."

"I dunno sis, I'm never gonna use-"

I interrupted Elsa in mid-sentence. "Come on, Elsa. You gotta have something to remember your high school years by. You didn't even get a grad ring!"

Elsa flashed her eyes in minor annoyance. "I didn't want one, they're bulky and useless," she answered, "and so is this dress."

"It's a dress, how useful can it be anyways?" I questioned, "Besides, you look good in it. Think of it as both a reminder of the good times and a reminder of your beauty!" I winked.

"Please, Anna," Elsa frowned, "let's just sell it and get out of here, we got lots of distance to cover."

I was stubborn. "Els, just keep it. You won't regret it when you're fifty and reminiscing about the past."

"Stop it, Anna," Elsa's voice trembled slightly. "Maybe I don't want to remember the past. It's my choice, and I want to sell this thing."

The store attendant paused in his tracks to look at us.

I didn't know what to say, Elsa had a solid argument. Nevertheless I had to say something. "So, what?" I questioned, my voice getting louder. "Our life in Arendelle isn't even worth remembering enough to keep souvenirs?"

Elsa blinked twice and remained silent, and it was just enough time to realize what I'd said.

_Fuck, Anna, you retard. Can't you see she's happy for once? _

I honestly had no idea why I continued to talk, but I did. "Is that why we left in the first place? What do you have against it?"

Elsa looked down at her feet and turned away from me before she began talking. "You know what, Anna? Maybe, just maybe, not everyone had the same blast of a good time back in Arendelle." Her voice cracked, almost like she was crying. "Maybe I didn't, so let me decide whether to sell _my _dress."

A logical and caring little sister would've stopped right there and apologized. But no, not me. Maybe it was the curiosity, or maybe it was the years that Elsa and I had been distant for, but I got angry. I even forgot about her depression.

"Oh yeah, like you could have any fun by being the antisocial loner you were." I shot back at Elsa. "Shut in your room all day like that, heck, we haven't hung out like real sisters since grade six."

My sister winced. I couldn't actually see her face but I saw the shiver travel through her body like a bolt of lightning. When she finally spoke I could hear the hurt in her soft voice.

"Maybe I was," Elsa said tearfully, "but did you ever stop to notice who took care of us and the family company after their death? No, you were off partying with your boyfriend. Maybe there was a reason I was alone, did you ever think of that?"

"Don't pin this on mama and papa's death, Elsa." I said with indignation. "You've been a recluse long before that. Don't pretend you didn't start ignoring me ever since we were kids. "

Elsa turned around to look at me. Her sky-blue eyes were watery, and one lone tear glistened down the blonde girl's cheeks. "Y-you don't even care how I feel, _do you_, Anna?" She managed to choke out.

"I-I…" Before I finished talking, Elsa was already out the door.

I told the Sharky's clerk to give me whatever money he thinks the rest of the stuff is worth, before running after my sister. But by then Elsa was long gone.

I left the pawn shop clutching Elsa's dress tightly in my hands. Only one thought was on my mind: _I'm going to find Elsa and fix this mess._

* * *

**A/N: Quite a long chapter, sorry. **


	5. Emotional Walls

_"The best people all have some kind of scar."_  
_~Kiera Cass_

* * *

Chapter 4: Emotional Walls

The road out of Hudson Bay Saskatchewan was even quieter than usual.

I found Elsa not long after the pawnshop incident. She sat cross-legged by the river, on the edge of a wooden dock. Elsa stared off at the distant storm clouds, her platinum hair fluttered in the wind. Every once in a while Elsa would pick up a stone from the pile beside her, and ever so gently skip it down the river below.

I remember walking up to my sister without knowing what to say to her. The half-rotted boards underneath my feet squeaked with every step. I sat beside her in the pile of skipping rocks, and for a few minutes, neither of us said anything.

I began by apologizing, and afterwards, we talked.

"Elsa, I'm sorry." I told my sister, "I didn't care how you felt. I always assumed you were alone just because you liked it, or because you didn't like me. I never once even tried to see it from your perspective."

Elsa turned to look at me, her loose hair ruffled in the warm summer wind. From where I sat, I could see faint but noticeable tear streaks on my sister's face. Her lips curled into a thin smile.

"Anna, its okay. " Elsa said, looking me in my eyes. "We all say things we don't mean sometimes. I'm sorry too."

I felt a pair of arms wrap around me before I realized Elsa was pulling me in for a hug. I buried my head in Elsa's shoulder. "S-so you forgive me?" I asked.

"Mhm, of course."

We ended the conversation by walking back to the car in the rain.

I had so much more I wanted to say. If only I had known what was about to happen, I would've said it then and there.


	6. Elsa's Head

_A human life is a story told by God._

_~Hans Christian Andersen_

* * *

Chapter 5: Elsa's Head

I saw it coming, and I didn't swerve in time.

The semi-trailer, all eighteen wheels of it, barrelled towards me with the force of a thousand raging bulls.

Straight into the passenger side. _Elsa's side._

A mere second before impact, a sense of overwhelming calmness enveloped me. At first I could see the semi; it's piercing daytime headlights shining, moving silently. Then the sounds came: a demonic mixture of the violent horn of a freight train coupled with the awful screeching of worn down brake disks. I froze.

I could just barely see the face of the driver over his shining chrome grills. Our gazes met for a fraction of a second. His grimaced face said he was straining to stop, but his eyes said _I'm sorry_.

My gaze drifted towards Elsa. Elsa was terrified. Her perfectly smooth, flawless face was white like a Halloween bedsheet ghost - emotionless and devoid of any colour. Her eyes told me a different story.

A thousand emotions flashed through my sister's eyes, but it was the one she settled on that brought me out of my fear paralysis. _Good bye, _her eyes said.

_Goodbye?... No! Not like this, Elsa!_

In that instant, I hit the brakes.

Wrong choice.

A more experienced driver might've slammed onto the gas pedal, and used the momentum of the car to guide us out of harm's way. Then again, a more experienced driver wouldn't have gotten into this mess in the first place.

I felt the jolt of the brake at the same time as that of the impact. There was a feeling of tranquility immediately after the impact. I heard ringing of my ears and I saw flying glass. Everything moved in slow motion.

A half empty bottle of water flew across my face before I realized the impact made the car tumble. Straining against the seat belt cutting into my neck and the G-forces of the collision, I turned to look at my sister.

The metal on Elsa's side buckled, and her head slammed right into the protruding steel.

And then there was nothing.

* * *

**[bzzzzzt]**

Patrol 14A6, this is dispatch.

**[bzzzzt]**

Go ahead dispatch.

**[bzzzzzt]**

We have a code 11-80 on 14th and Moncton, eyewitness reports serious collision between semi-trailer and grey sedan. Ambulance will be on site ASAP.

**[bzzzzt]**

Copy that dispatch, 14th and Moncton. ETA 5 minutes.

14A6 out.

* * *

**[bzzzzzt]**

Dispatch, this 14A6 on the scene of the serious, possibly fatal accident.

I need that ambulance _right now!_

**[bzzzzzt]**

Say again, 14A6? Ambulance ETA 1 minute.

**[bzzzzzt]**

Tell them to prep the trauma unit; I've got two females: both unconscious, the one in her early twenties is bleeding profusely from the head and upper thigh.

**[bzzzzzt]**

Roger that, 14A6.

* * *

_"Female, 21, multiple lacerations from the accident, cranial bleeding- Get me a neck brace and gauze. "_

_"Johnson and Adams, go look after the redhead and the truck driver."_

_"Alright, got it."_

_"Brace her neck; an accident of this magnitude there's going to be spinal damage."_

_"She's convulsing-someone grab the oxygen."_

_"Come on, girl, stay with us-"_

_"-Stretcher, get the stretcher. We need to get her to St. Paul's General right away."_

_"Doug, put pressure on her leg, I'm gonna lift on three-"_

_"One…"_

_"Two…"_

_"Three!"_

_"Tell ER we have a major trauma victim, 15 minutes out."_

_"She's bleeding everywhere. I need 3 units of O negative, stat!" _

_"Got it."_

_"-We have to stop the bleeding!"_

_"The tourniquet, put it around her rig-"_

_"Wait, forget the leg! Her arteries are intact! Look at her heart: pulse 160 and BP 150 over 100, we need to slow her heart down before she goes into cardiac arrest."_

_"-Get me 10 ccs of adenosine"_

_"Not good, heart rate still climbing-"_

_"She's in narrow complex tachycardia, push 100 ml amiodarone."_

_"Pushing-"_

**[beeeeeep]**

_"She's in v-fib. We have to shock."_

_"Push lidocaine and prep for defib."_

_"Pushing-"_

_"Clear!-"_

**[bzzzt]**

**[beeeeeep]**

_ "Come on…"_

_"Clear!-"_

** [bzzzt] **

**[beeeeeep]**

_"Give her one more shock!"_

_"Clear!-"_

**[bzzzt]**

**[beep… beep… beep…]**

_"Phew. Sinus rhythm normal. She's good."_

_"Hey come look at her eyes, they're not responding to the light."_

_"What?"_

_"Her eyes! I think she's comatose."_

_"No, she's seizing, look at her arms. Get me 50 mg diazepam and notify ER to prep to operate. Have a neurosurgeon on standby; I think Dr. Newsom is on ER duty."_

_"Neurosurgeon?"_

_"It's her brain. She's herniating into her skull and it's crushing her brain. She'll be dead in 30 minutes if we don't relieve the pressure."_


End file.
